Lore
by LeonieLunatic
Summary: Not much is known about Jinx's backstory. So here it is: My detailed Jinx headcanon. / WARNINGS: Rape, Substance Abuse, Character Death, FemSlash, Violence, Angst, Mental Illness.
1. Part One

**Part One: The Beginning.**

I was only a kid. I was so innocent.  
At least, I was supposed to be innocent.  
But I wasn't. At all. And that was all his fault. He, who should've been protecting me took my innocence. After the first time he did it, he did it again a week after. And then again after a few days. Until, at some point, he did it once a day.

It all started when I was six years old. I had just tucked my four year old sister in bed, since my mom wasn't doing it, she just sat in the living room, staring into nothingness, like she always did.  
"Do I really have to go to bed?"  
"Yeah," I smiled, "But we'll play again tomorrow, I promise, okay?"  
"But I wanna play now!"  
"But daddy will be really angry if he sees us playing this late," I said, giving my sister her favorite teddy bear.  
She grabbed it and hugged it tightly.  
"Why doesn't mommy ever play with us?"  
I shrugged.  
"Maybe she's tired. Adults are always tired from doing adult stuff."  
Being only six years old at that time, that was what I actually believed.  
I went over to the door.  
"Promise you won't get up again and play!", I said.  
My sister yawned and nodded, closing her eyes and snuggling into her blankets. I smiled and closed the door to her room, making my way to my bedroom to go to bed as well. I fell asleep fairly quickly, as I always did at that age.  
I woke up with a start a few hours later. I looked to my left to see that there was someone standing next to my bed. I was about to scream for my dad, when I realized, the person standing next to my bed _was_ my dad.  
"Shh," he said, and a terrible smell hit me.  
The smell was coming from his mouth and it made me feel sick. Today I know that it was the smell of alcohol.  
"I was just checking on you," he continued, patting my head.  
"You scared me, daddy," I said.  
"I'm sorry sweetie, I didn't mean to do that."  
He sat down on my bed.  
"I'll stay with you until you fall back asleep," he said.  
I yawned.  
"Okay …," I muttered, turning over and closing my eyes again.  
Right before I drifted back to sleep I felt how my father laid down in my bed, hugging me.  
"Daddy, let me sleep," I mumbled sleepily.  
"But you're so precious," he whispered.  
At least I think that's what he said, it was hard to understand what he was saying as he was slurring the words.  
He began stroking my arms, my hips, my stomach and –  
"Daddy what are you doing?"  
"Shh, this is a new game I thought of. If you play it with me I'll buy you lots of sweets tomorrow."  
I laid still, trying to decide if this "game" was worth the sweets. But my father wasn't waiting on my OK.  
Instead, he pulled down my pajama pants.  
"I don't think I want any sweets," I whispered.  
"Oh trust me, you'll like this game. I promise."  
I was rigid. I couldn't move. My father pulled down my panties painfully slowly.  
He kissed my stomach and made his way down between my legs. And before I could react any further, he pressed a pillow on my face. Not too tight, so I could breathe just like that.  
I heard a zipper and then all I felt was unbearable pain. I screamed at the top of my little lungs, but my screams were muffled by the pillow.  
It felt like hours of unbearable torture, although it probably only lasted around five minutes.  
I expected the pain to get less once he let go off me and left the room. But now there was a terrible, terrible burning sensation.  
I sat up straight up in my bed, my heart racing. I sat there for a while until I jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom to throw up. I spent the rest of the night in front of the toilet, but I kept quiet about what had happened that night. I even went to school the next day.  
I pushed it to the back of my head, thinking it would never happen again.  
I was so wrong. It did happen again. And again. And again. And I wish I could tell you that it was because of the alcohol. But my father was only drunk about half of the times he did it.

It went on for almost two years.  
It was about a month after my eighth birthday.  
My mother was laying on the couch, in a worse state than ever before. Empty bottles of cough syrup shattered all over the floor.  
My sister, now five, still didn't understand. But I did. I understood so much now.  
My mom was addicted to this stuff. It made her travel somewhere far else, somewhere far, far away from reality.  
I was trying to wake her up but it was hopeless. Her dead eyes kept staring at the ceiling and she didn't react in any way to me shaking her. I'm still not sure if, at this point, she was already dead or if she was just comatose.  
"Dad!"  
He poked his head out of his office.  
"Dad we need to call an ambulance, I think there's something wrong with mom!"  
He walked towards me. Yes, me. Not the telephone.  
"Dad, please … Mom needs help …," I muttered.  
"I'll help her in a second," he said with that disgusting smile on his face.  
I wanted to run, but I was frozen in place. He grabbed me, pretty much literally ripping the clothes off my body.  
"Please, stop, we need to help mom!", I cried as I did everything in my strength to get away from him.  
Then I heard the door to my sister's room open.  
Oh God, no, I didn't want her to see this.  
"Vi! Stay in your room! Close the door and don't come out until I tell you to!"  
Her door closed. But I couldn't feel relieved. My father had taken advantage of me staying still for a second had grabbed me tightly and was now pressing me to the floor.  
Panicking, I looked around me as he was about to open his belt. I got a hold of an empty vodka bottle that was standing next to the couch, and with all my strength, smashed it on my father's head.  
He passed out instantly. I rolled over so he wouldn't smash me with his weight as he fell.  
I stared at him. Blood was coming from a small wound on his head. I turned to look at my mom. She still hadn't moved. My heart began to race. I needed to … do something. My eyes locked on the gas stove.  
I rushed to Violet's room, opened the door – I was naked, mind you – and yelled at her to get all her things and get out of the house.  
She looked at me, both confused and scared.  
"Do as I say, now!"  
She grabbed her teddy bear and her favorite blanket and ran outside. I put my underwear back on, threw on a dress I found in the laundry box that was standing in the living room, not caring if it had been washed or not, then went to grab a box of matches that was lying on the coffee table. My hands were shaking as I was trying to light one of the matches.  
When I had finally lit one, I lingered for a second, asking myself whether I should just stay here and die. But the moment I threw the match into the stove, I ran as fast as I could, out of the house. Vi was standing in the Yard, looking at me, terrified.  
I had no time to explain, I just grabbed her hand and continued running.  
"Where are we going?"  
I didn't answer. I had no idea. But I didn't look back. Not once.  
I only stopped running when we had arrived on a small, empty street. I leaned against a wall, trying to catch my breath.  
"Sis, are you okay?", Vi asked, her voice shaking with fear.  
Just as she had asked me that, a fire truck drove past us. I knew where it was going. And I hoped it would be too late for my parents when it got there.  
I broke down, hugging my sister tightly.  
She was safe now. I was fucked, but at least she would never have to go through what I went through.  
"Lauryn, please talk to me, I'm scared."  
"It's okay, Vi. It's all good now."


	2. Part Two

**Part Two: Home. **

We spent the next few years hiding from police. Of course they were looking for us, when they didn't find our bodies in the burnt down house.  
I would steal pink and blue hair dye from the super market, dyeing Vi's hair pink and mine blue, so that people wouldn't recognize us. I put my hair into pigtails and let it grow out, while I regularly cut Vi's with a pair of scissors I had stolen. I must say, it turned out pretty awesome, although it looked a bit asymmetric.  
Living in the streets was hard. We couldn't go begging because I knew people would take us to police since we were still so young. So we pretty much had to steal food and clothes.  
Winter was the hardest. We'd walk around the city looking for unlocked cars we could sleep in. Sometimes we got lucky and we were able to break into houses of families that had gone on winter holiday. But that happened fairly rarely. If one of us got sick, seeking medical help was impossible. The doctors would ask for our parents.  
When it was me who had protected Vi in the beginning, it quickly became Vi who was protecting me. I had a weaker body and a weaker mind. I never told her the whole truth. When she was ten, I told her that both our parents were alcoholics. That was only quarter truth. My mother was an alcoholic, though her DXM addiction was the main problem. And my father did drink a lot, though I don't think he was addicted. I lied to her about the fire, too. I told her it was an accident. I never told her what our father did to me, either. As a matter of fact, I never told anyone. I was ashamed. But I suppressed it, to the point where I became heavily depressed, and couldn't even remember why. I developed an eating disorder at the age of 13, that grew worse as I got older. I did my best to hide it from Vi.  
Our lives changed for the better when I was 16 and Vi was 14. We stumbled upon this group of teenagers. They were all around my age, I remember the youngest being 15 and the oldest being 19. Let me explain to you what happened in detail.

It was one of those cold winter nights, but it wasn't below the freezing point. In other words: it was fucking cold, but it wasn't snowing, instead, it was raining cats and dogs.  
Vi and I were looking for a shelter from the rain, when we came across this old abandoned factory.  
"Vi, I'd rather – ACHOO!"  
"You'll freeze to death, let's get inside!"  
Vi grabbed my hand and pulled me inside.  
It wasn't much warmer inside the factory than outside. I was shivering, the cold physically hurt me.  
"Hello?!", Vi called.  
"Shut the hell up!", I hissed.  
But it was too late. I could hear steps and they were coming closer.  
"Let's get out of here," I said, ready to make a run for it, but Vi held me back.  
There was a girl to our right, and she was coming closer. I gulped.  
"Who are you?", she asked, as lightning struck, which allowed us to see her face.  
She looked about 17, with long, black hair, her eyes were icy blue. She had a stern look on her face.  
"My name is Violet. My sister and I were looking for a shelter from the rain."  
The girl looked at me, then at Vi.  
"Are you lost? Why don't you just go home?"  
 _Home_. I hadn't heard that word in years.  
"We're homeless," Vi said.  
"I see …", the girl said, "How long have you been out there?"  
I sneezed."A few days. But it wasn't as cold," Vi answered, "Well, actually, we've been homeless since early childhood."  
The girl's face lightened up a bit.  
"Follow me," she said. She went back in the direction she came from, with Vi and me following.  
She led us into a room with seven other people sitting around an oil lamp. As we entered the room, they all looked up.  
"Guys, these are Violet and ..."  
"Lauryn," I said.  
"I've decided to let them stay for a night or two."  
Nobody disagreed. They all just nodded silently.  
The black-haired girl turned to face us.  
"You can just call me Midnight. Grab a blanket from over there."  
She pointed at the corner of the room, where a few blankets lay.  
I rushed over, grabbing three of them and wrapping me in them. I was still freezing, but it made me feel a little better.  
Vi sat down next to me, herself wrapped in a blanket.  
"You said you've been homeless since early childhood. How come?"  
"Our house caught fire. My sister noticed in time and ran away with me. Our parents died in the fire. That wasn't too tragic, though. Both of them were abusive alcoholics."  
"How old were you?", one of the boys sitting around the oil lamp asked.  
"I was five, Lauryn had just turned eight."  
"So you're the younger one?", Midnight asked.  
"Yeah."  
"You look older, though."  
We got that a lot. People would think Vi was around 18, and I was around 15.  
Midnight reached for a plastic bag.  
"Hungry?", she asked, showing us what was inside the bag – loads of fruit and chocolate bars.  
I was _starving_ , but I declined. Vi grabbed the whole bag and started munching away.  
Silence.  
"What's the plan for tomorrow, Number one?", a girl with bright red hair asked.  
"I'm gonna send you and Number three off to get money," Midnight said, "Number four! You still comfortable with working the corners?"  
A blonde girl, that looked about 19, nodded.  
"No problem, Number one. I don't mind."  
"Good, then earn us some money. But tell me when you don't want to do this anymore."  
The blonde girl nodded.  
"Care to explain what's going on?", Vi asked.  
"Let's just say we're a little street gang," Midnight said, "And I'm Number one."  
"A street gang? So … you work together to steal money and food?"  
"Oh no, we only steal when we have to. We usually earn our money by begging. And Number four is a prostitute. She doesn't have a problem with it, so don't worry, I'm not forcing her to do anything."  
"Are you all … homeless, too?"  
"Most of us a runaways. But yes."  
"Can we join your gang?!", Vi asked.  
I looked at her. Did she just …?!  
The other members began whispering, Midnight seemed a bit taken aback.  
"What do you say, Number two?", she asked.  
A boy with tanned skin looked up. He looked surprised that Midnight was asking his opinion.  
"Well … they've been on their own for years. Seems like they know how to survive through tough times. I say they might be useful."  
Midnight nodded.  
"You said your name was Violet, right?"  
"Yeah," Vi said.  
"Mhh … Violet … VI … You'll be Number six."  
"But I'm Number six!", the red haired girl shrieked.  
"Not anymore, sucks to be you."  
The red haired girl, now Number seven, fell silent.  
"Lauryn, you'll be Number ten."  
I just nodded silently, I was too tired to speak.  
"In that case, I'm no longer Midnight for you. I am now Number one, understood?"  
Vi nodded, but I was already drowsing off.

And that is how we met our gang. All of the members had different backgrounds. Number two had a little brother he nicknamed "Ekko" who was still living with his parents. Sometimes, when their parents weren't home – which happened fairly often – Ekko would bring us some of his food and invited us into his house to shower.  
It wasn't easy, but it definitely was easier than it was before. I grew very close to Midnight. I realized that I was gay very soon after I had met her. It was instant attraction for me. It became apparent very soon that she was attracted to me, too, but it took quite a while for us to give in to that.


	3. Part Three

**Part Three: Love.  
**  
It was late summer, September, I think. About a month before my 17th birthday. I was sitting outside, watching the sun set. The others were inside, as it was dinner time. Ekko – who was 11 at the time, but surprisingly mature for his age – was paying us a visit. He had brought a lot of food, it was like a feast.  
I never took part during feasts like that. I kept my eating disorder a secret, though I knew that both Vi and Midnight suspected something.  
It was a kind of cloudy evening, still warm, though not too hot. I was breathing through my mouth so I wouldn't smell the food.  
"Aren't you hungry?"  
Midnight sat down next to me.  
"No," I answered, my eyes fixed on a point far away.  
"Come on, take a bite."  
She put a plate on my lap. Steak and potato salad.  
"I'm really not –"  
I couldn't finish, as Midnight stuffed some of the potato salad into my mouth.  
Oh God, how many calories were in this? Doesn't matter. As soon as Midnight was gone I could purge. Slowly, I chewed and swallowed.  
"Vi and I made that," Midnight said.  
"It's good," I responded.  
It _was_ good. It was heavenly, to say the least. Lost in my thoughts, I picked up the fork and ate a bit more. I could purge as soon as she was gone. All good.  
"I'll stay here with you for a while."  
I stopped chewing and almost spat out what was in my mouth.  
"Why?"  
"Lauryn, I'm not stupid. Neither is your sister. We know. It's okay. We'll help you get through this."  
"Get through what?", I asked, my voice shaking.  
"Your bulimia," Midnight said.  
She put one arm around me. I started shaking, This was bad.  
I put the plate aside and covered my face with my hands.  
"It's okay, we're here for you."  
"I can get through this on my own," I said.  
"No, you can't. Just let me help you."  
I didn't answer.  
"Maybe you'd like to tell me why?"  
"You want me to be honest?"  
"Yes, please."  
"I don't know. I don't remember. I know that something horrible happened to me. But I honestly can't tell what it was."  
"Maybe it's good that you don't remember."  
"Maybe."  
Midnight hugged me tightly. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the moment. When she let go, our faces were dangerously close to each other.  
"I'm a mess," I whispered against her lips.  
"I know," she said.  
And then, she kissed me.  
I don't have words to describe what kissing her felt like. It was probably one of the happiest moments of my life. And the first time in years where I felt at home.  
"You're beautiful," she whispered.  
And for a moment, I actually believed her. A smile flicked across my face as I leaned in to kiss her again. She pulled me closer towards her, and just looked at me for a while.  
The look in her eyes … I can only describe it a magical. It was at this moment where I realized that I wasn't simply attracted to Midnight. I was in love with her.  
Her hands on my hips, her lips pressed against mine. She took off the black tank top I was wearing that day and then carefully laid me down on the grass. She grabbed my hand and held it tightly as she kissed my cheek, then my neck, slowly making her way down to my hips.  
The thought of sex had always terrified me. But at this moment, I was calm, wanting nothing more than having her as close to me as possible. Slowly, she unbuttoned my pants, pulling them down. She kissed my inner thighs and caressed my hips before she took off my panties. I could feel her finger, running up and down between my legs.  
She put her hands on my hips and gave it a very light, quick lick. Then, she came back up to my face to kiss me. I slowly slipped my hands inside her pants, found her clit and began massaging it carefully. She moaned, so softly, I probably wouldn't have heard it if he face hadn't been so close to mine. She reached down between my legs, slipping two fingers inside me. I turned my face towards hers and kissed her, in order to keep silent. I penetrated her with my middle finger, still massaging her clit with thumb. Her panting became louder, the grip around my hand tighter. She bit my neck as she climaxed. I came only seconds later.  
She rolled over, panting, but smiling at me. And I smiled back.

We never really talked about this. We didn't need to. She simply became my girlfriend after that. And I don't mean to brag, but our relationship lasted quite long. Almost seven years, to be in fact.  
I was still a mess. This is not some cheesy love story, me being with her didn't cure my depression, neither did it make my eating disorder go away. But at least, I didn't get worse. Vi and Midnight helped me maintain my sanity, which was essential, because I honestly had a lot more issues than 'just' being depressed. I went to see a psycho-therapist once a week for about half a year (Ekko's parents paid … without knowing, if you get what I mean) who diagnosed a bunch of personality disorders and pyrophilic, sadistic and homicidal tendencies. No idea how that guy didn't consider me a threat to humanity and got me locked up. Anyway, long story short, I was a maniac, a lunatic, a fucking psycho. But at Vi and Midnight helped me control myself. I will admit though, I got angry fairly easily, I got into physical fights with other gang members all the time and if there was danger, I was the first one to grab the weapons (which our gang had for collected over the years, in order to protect and defend ourselves.)  
But other than that, life was good. Well, as good as it can be for someone like me. I got a tattoo to cover my scars from self harm, Vi got one the same day so I wouldn't be alone. I think these six years were the closest I ever was to being happy.  
Then came the day that ruined everything.


	4. Part Four

**Part Four: Memories.**

I was 22. Midnight and Vi had talked me into going to a party. I hated parties, I hated them with a passion, I hated socializing, I hated alcohol and drunk people, but Midnight was turning 23, and apparently some of her friends outside the gang were throwing her a party.  
So I went to the party. I sat in the corner of the room for most of the time, watching Midnight having fun on the dance floor. It wasn't fun for me, but it was bearable, until that guy approached me.  
"Hi," he said.  
I ignored him.  
"So … you alone here?"  
I took a sip of my (non-alcoholic) drink.  
"Nope. I'm the birthday girl's girlfriend."  
He laughed as if I had just cracked the most hilarious joke in the history of hilarious jokes.  
"Really? She's my ex, you see. Broke up with her last year. I see she got tired of boys."  
I was about to pull out the knife I always carried around and brutally stab him, but I took a deep breath and looked him straight him the eye.  
"Nice try, but Midnight was already gay when I met her. Which was seven years ago. I've had this girl on my side for six years now. So hurry along and try your luck with another girl. Or with a boy, might I suggest, as it seems you can easily decide what gender you like."  
He looked at me, dumbfounded.  
"I bet you only like girls because you've never had a good dick," he then said.  
"No, actually, my desire to _not get dick under any circumstances_ makes me a lesbian."  
He glared at me for a while before getting up and going to the bar to get another drink.  
I felt slightly sick after that conversation, so I decided to go outside for some fresh air.  
I went over to Midnight to tell her I'd go for a walk around the block.  
"Okay, but be back soon, I'll miss you," she said, smiling.  
And after a few kisses, she let me go.  
I stepped outside, immediately feeling a lot better. It was late spring, so the nights were still rather chilly, but after the heat inside, the cold was breeze was just what I needed. I took a deep breath, and then stared walking.  
The sky was clear that night. I looked at the stars as I was walking.  
Suddenly, I heard something behind me. I thought nothing of it, brushing it off as some kind of animal. Until I heard it again. I turned around to see that there was a guy, walking about ten foot behind me. He was wearing a black hoodie, the hood covering his face. He just kept walking casually. Something about him made me feel uncomfortable, so I decided to let him pass me. But when he reached me, he stopped walking and looked at me.  
It was the guy from the club.  
"We meet again," he said with a kind of grin I could've sworn I had seen somewhere before.  
"Piss off," I said, turning around, but he reached for my arm.  
"How about I show you how much of a lesbian you really are," he hissed into my ear, "Bet I can change your mind."  
I felt fear grasping me like a huge fist. My stomach turned over, I felt incredibly sick.  
"Please," I whispered, almost throwing up as I spoke.  
"You even hotter when you're scared," he said.  
I reached for my knife, but he reacted quickly, taking it away from me and tackling me to the ground.  
Now it was him, holding the knife, pressing it against my throat.  
"You better keep still, blood doesn't turn me on," he said.  
I felt him pulling down my pants.  
My mind just shut off. I felt what he was doing, but I wasn't feeling any emotions. Instead, memories rained down on me. Childhood memories, you might say.  
This guy, whose name I to this day still don't know, was the trigger for me to remember all of what my father had done to me during those two years of horror.  
Once he was done, he let go of me, gave me back my knife by throwing it to the floor, and then just left my laying there on this sidewalk, naked, alone.

From this point on, everything's kind of blurry. I remember getting up and going 'home', though I'm not sure for how long I had been laying on the ground. The others were still at the party when I got there. I remember wondering if Midnight was worried and if she had gone looking for me. Eventually I collapsed in the room we used for sleeping.  
After that, my memory is a black hole. I wish I could remember what else happened that night and the following morning, I really do. Because when I regained consciousness, I was standing in the room we had used as a hiding place for our weapons, surrounded by dead bodies. I had shot and killed _everyone._ I was covered in blood and I was still holding the pink mini gun Number two had brought from a visit at the black market a few years back.  
I fell to my knees as I spotted Midnight's corpse. Shaking, I crawled over to her. Her body was already ice cold. I wanted to cry, my entire world had come to an end, I felt like breaking down. But instead of breaking down in tears, I started laughing. A loud, shrill laughter. I was laughing so hard, it was hurting my throat. Tears streamed down my face as sat on the floor, laughing, not finding myself to be able to stop.  
My laughter only faded when I noticed that one body was missing.  
 _Vi_.  
She was not here. Was she alive? Did she get away? Where was she now?  
The thought that I needed to find her hammering in my head, I packed some of the guns – the mini gun, a rocket launcher and a shock pistol – and a bag full of grenades and took off. Though I don't even know why I thought weapons and grenades were important or how they were supposed to help me find my sister.  
I don't know where I went after that, as there's another black hole in my memory.


	5. Part Five

**Part Five: A new Beginning**

I found myself in the woods that separated Zaun from Piltover after … I don't know how long.  
It was rather cold, I guessed it was fall, which meant I might or might not have missed my 23rd birthday.  
No idea what I had been living off the past few months or how I had managed to keep myself somewhat clean. I wasn't wearing the same clothes I had when I last remembered. Pretty sure there were stains of dried blood on my clothes. But I still had the weapons and the bag with the grenades inside.  
What had happened? Where in the fuck was I?  
I looked around me and spotted what looked like a forest clearing. Instinctively, I walked towards it. As I got closer, I saw that this wasn't a clearing, but the end of the woods. Hoping I'd end up back in Zaun, I started running.  
But the second I got out of the woods, I knew this was _not_ Zaun. Everything was so … neat and clean. No doubt – this was Piltover. Early in the morning, it seemed. It was still somewhat dark outside and there were no cars, everything was quiet. I approached one of the houses, where I noticed that all the blinds were down and no cars were parked in front of it.  
"Get inside."  
I froze. Who said that?  
"What are you waiting for? You can have a shower and check what date it is."  
I turned my head left and right, but I could see no one. What the fuck?  
"Come back to your senses, have you?"  
Another voice. A deeper one this time. Nobody in sight. Was I hearing things?  
"Hey! Don't you remember us?", the higher voice shrieked.  
The weapons. It was the weapons. Oh God, I had lost my mind.  
The deep voice belonged to the rocket launcher, the higher one was the mini gun. Don't ask me, I have no idea how I knew that, I just did.  
"It's me, Pow-Pow!", the mini gun said.  
Yeah, Pow-Pow, sounds like something I'd make up.  
"And you're Fishbones, right?"  
The words slipped over my lips.  
The rocket launcher nodded. I swear to God, the fucking thing _nodded.  
_ I guess I must've been very, very lonely all these months alone in the woods. And as a result of that … I made friends with my weapons. Well, I was officially a nutcase. Not that I hadn't been before ...  
"You need help, Lauryn. Go look for the nearest police station," Fishbones said.  
"Like hell she will! Get inside that house, you need rest!", Pow-Pow retorted.  
I didn't answer and simply did what Pow-Pow had suggested: I jumped over the fence and went around the back, looking for the backdoor, which I found rather quickly. Of course, it was locked, but it didn't take much strength to break it down.  
It was a pretty house. Very clean. The family obviously hadn't been gone for long.  
I walked though the kitchen, which led me to the living room. There, on the wall, was a digital clock that also showed me the date.  
It was the 5th of November. I _had_ missed my Birthday.  
"Happy Birthday to me," I mumbled.  
"Hey, look at that!", Pow-Pow said.  
I turned around, looking at a little coffee table. Laying on the coffee table: a newspaper. The headline?  
"PILTOVER'S NEW ENFORCER"  
It was showing a picture of my sister. A smile spread across my face.  
"Found you."

 **\- THE END -**

 _A/N: I might write a sequel though._


End file.
